


Bell, Book and Candle

by ReneeMR



Series: Hollywood AU [2]
Category: Highlander
Genre: Adam - Freeform, Duncan - Freeform, Duncan/Adam, Ensemble - Freeform, Highlander - Freeform, Humor, M/M, preslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-02-11
Updated: 2003-02-10
Packaged: 2017-10-04 04:24:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReneeMR/pseuds/ReneeMR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Retelling of the classic with Duncan MacLeod in the Jimmy Stewart role and Adam Holroyd in the Kim Novak role.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dramatis Personae
> 
> Adam Holroyd, metaphysical shop owner  
> Duncan MacLeod, publisher  
> Sting, Adam's Sphynx Cat  
> Amanda Holroyd, Adam's mischievous 'aunt'  
> Kronos, a warlock  
> Cassandra Kitritch, Duncan's fiancee  
> Rich Holroyd, Adam's 'brother'  
> Anne Lindsey, Duncan's publishing associate  
> Joe Dawson, a writer specializing in paranormal activities  
> Charlie Desalvo, owner of Desalvo Publishers, Duncan's boss

One

Yule in Manhattan. Last minute shoppers looked for unique gifts for their eclectic friends. And they always seemed drawn to the little shop belonging to Adam Holroyd.

Just now, the proprietor of The Spiral Dance was ending his day by rearranging the display in the shop's large front window. As he worked, a small crowd gathered in the snow. Most of them female. They seemed far more interested in the man in the window than in completing their shopping. Than in the crystals he was laying out on swathes of rainbow colored silk. Or in getting home to their Christmas Eve celebrations.

Adam Holroyd looked up and out of the window at the shivering group and gave them a vague smile. He gave the centerpiece of the display, a large amytrine geode, another adjustment. Nodded in satisfaction.

As he turned away a lithe black figure jumped from the counter to his shoulder. He automatically put up a hand to caress the cat. A small, solid black Sphynx. Then the cat stepped down his chest and the man lovingly caressed the smooth, hairless body.

Adam turned to survey the shop's interior. Went to lock the door. Turned out all but the light illuminating the geode. Then he paused to watch the people passing by. People who couldn`t see him. He sighed. "Sting, are you bored?"

The cat rubbed his master's chin with his own and purred loudly and comfortingly.

"Same thing every day. Same things, same people. It's Yule, Sting." Adam turned the cat to cradle him in his arms like a baby. "What are you going to give me?" He chuckled as the cat purred happily.

"I want to meet someone new. Do something different." Whiskey-gold eyes brightened. "Look, there's the new guy from upstairs." Adam watched the tall, dark and extremely handsome man get out of a cab and cross in front of the shop. His eyes followed him as he entered the hallway. "He's different, isn't he Sting," Adam whispered.

He smiled at his neighbor. Was a little surprised to see a smile in return.

He continued to watch as the other man went past and nodded. "Now, he would be a perfect present. Why don't you get him for me, Sting?" Adam laughed as he went through the curtained entrance into his apartment.

 

Meanwhile, the object of Adam's speculation had reached his second floor apartment and found an unexpected--and uninvited--guest. He opened his door to the sound of a whispered gasp. He took two steps through the doorway and stopped.

"Oh, you surprised me," the woman said breathlessly.

"That makes two of us," he replied. "Who are you?" He walked closer. Whoever she was, she was very attractive. Fairly tall and curvy. Her dark brunette hair was like a cap hugging her head. Her eyes were big and brown. He smiled appreciatively at the satin robe she was wearing.

But he frowned when it became apparent she had been looking through the things on his desk. His computer was on. He was about to speak, but the woman took the initiative.

"You did a great job with the place. I hear you did all the remodeling work yourself? This place used to be a dump." The woman walked into the middle of the living room and turned slowly.

"Thanks. Now, tell me, what are you doing in here?"

"Oh, I saw your door open. And the window. And snow…" She smiled engagingly. "I thought I should do something about that…"

"Oh? Really?" The dark man dangled his keys before her. "I had to unlock the door to get in."

"Did you? Well, you're new. You'll find we're quite neighborly. We look out for each other."

The man frowned and shook his head. He was getting absolutely nowhere this way. He looked the woman over again. "Are you the one who lives above me?" He noted her little nod. "Well, tell me something, would you? Are you an actress?"

"Actress?" She brightened at his question.

"Well, at night I hear you through the ceiling when I`m trying to sleep. Sounds as though you`re reciting or something." More than once he'd been wakened in the dead of night to odd sounds coming from overhead.

"Can you understand what I say?"

"No."

"I'll try not to do it so loudly." The woman smiled prettily and looked around the large living room. "You read, don't you? And you have such a correspondence." She pointed behind the man. "I straightened your desk up a bit. I must say you`re very sloppy." She laughed.

But the man didn't find anything to laugh about. "Well, if you don't mind terribly, I have some telephone calls to make. Personal phone calls." He turned away to take off his coat and hang it in the closet.

The woman narrowed her eyes. She wasn't happy about being ignored. So, he had some important and *personal* calls to make? Well, she'd just see about that. When the man turned back to her, she was smiling.

"Before you moved in, a fortune-teller lived here. And he was very pleasant." The woman moved to the door, and the man jumped to open it for her. She turned and looked him over once more before offering a parting comment. "Very pleasant."

 

TWO

Adam was in his apartment's tiny galley when he heard knocking on the shop's door. He set aside the pitcher of sangria he was making. It wasn't his aunt or brother. They would have come to the back door. Or used their key.

He padded barefoot into the shop, with Sting, the cat leading the way. He was surprised--pleasantly so--to see it was his upstairs neighbor. He scooped up the cat as he opened the door.

"I'm sorry to bother you. I'm Duncan MacLeod. I live just above."

"I know. I'm Adam Holroyd." He waited patiently for the man to go on. Neither encouraging nor discouraging. But, my, if he had half a chance. He used the opportunity to look the man over. This was the first time they'd been so close.

"My phone--phones, actually," he said with a bemused smile, "seem tobe out of order. I wonder, could I use yours? I'm late for an appointment."

"Come in." Adam opened the door wide and stepped back for the man to enter ahead of him. "It's in the back." He escorted MacLeod to the back and held open the drape for him.

MacLeod looked around for a moment before following the other Adam through the drapes. Although he'd lived in the building several weeks, he'd never been into the shop. He really wasn't into the metaphysical--lifestyle.

Adam pointed out the phone, then went to pour a goblet of sangria.

MacLeod was on hold to report the disruption in his phone service when he noticed a book next to the phone. "You reading this?" He held up a large, hardcover book.

"Oh, `Paranormal In Peru?' Yes. Are you interested in that sort of thing?" If he was, it could certainly help get them off to a good start.

"Well, not personally. But professionally. I'm a publisher."

"Did you publish that?"

The man shook his head and grinned ruefully. "No. But I wish I had. Sold like 'Harry Potter!'"

Adam snorted and shook his head. "Well, I can't think why. It's completely phony."

"Oh, it is?" The dark man looked and sounded skeptical. And amused.

"I spent a year in Peru. I'm sure they fed him a lot of, hm, fake tourist stuff. And he swallowed it whole."

"I still wish I'd put this one out," MacLeod said with a shrug. "As a matter of fact, I heard Dawson is about ready to change publishers."

"Would you like to meet him," Adam asked thoughtfully.

"Do you know him?"

"No. But I might know someone who does." He had heard of the man. He was completely off course in his most of his research, of course. Especially since he was continuously being led astray.

"Well, I understand he's a drunk and a nut. But there's always a big market for the supernatural. Yes, I'd like, very much, to meet him."

"Well, then I'll see if I can arrange it sometime." Adam hid a smile. Poor Dawson.

MacLeod nodded. Gave the other man a brilliant smile. "Thank you."

Adam was thinking about how to contact the writer, when something MacLeod was saying to the phone rep caught his attention. His description of the problem sounded suspiciously like the effects of one of his aunt's little tricks.  
"Whatever it is, I want it fixed," the man was saying. "Merry Christmas to you, too."

"Would a drink make it better?" Adam raised his wine goblet.

"I'm in an awful hurry. Maybe I can have a rain check?"

Adam nodded and smiled. At least he'd left it open for them to see one another again. He got up to escort his visitor out. They went into the shop.

"Fascinating stuff, you have." MacLeod pointed to a tiny figurine. "What's that?"

"It's a mother figure." Adam patted the abundant curves of the statue.

"Looks like a teacher I had once," the dark man said with a laugh. "How did you get interested in all of this?"

"I have a doctorate in anthropology."

They had reached the doorway. MacLeod stopped and stared at the slender young man in his comfortable-looking black jeans and soft gray sweater. Bare feet on the sheepskin rugs in the apartment. Adam. He was finding himself becoming more and more fascinated with his new neighbor. For some reason--completely unfounded, obviously--he had thought the man who owned The Spiral Dance had to be some kind of weirdo.

The door opened. "Adam! You've got to change your mind and come along. Oh, I didn`t know you had company."

MacLeod turned to see the woman who'd been in his apartment earlier. She was obviously dressed to go out. In a very slinky black velvet dress. She carried a long cloak over her arm.

"This is Duncan MacLeod, Amanda." Adam, knowing they had already met--somehow--watched the man's expression. "This is my aunt. Ms. Holroyd."

"Your aunt?"

"Mr. MacLeod and I saw each other a little earlier," Amanda said in a lightly amused tone. She knew that Adam knew they`d met before. "I'm afraid he thinks I've been naughty," she went on conspiratorially.

The man sputtered denials until Amanda took pity on him. "Oh good, you forgive me!"

She turned to her nephew. "Adam, you can't stay in tonight. All our friends will be at The Zodiac." She turned back to MacLeod and put her hand on his chest. She practically fluttered her eyelashes as she smiled up at him.

Adam practically ground his teeth.

"Mr. MacLeod, persuade him for me. Please?" Amanda looked up at him from half-lowered lashes. She was trying hard to keep from laughing.

"The Zodiac? I don't think I know it…"

"I don't imagine you would. It's, ah, kind of a dive." Adam wanted to kick Amanda for playing these games.

"But, it's fun," the other woman said with a little giggle. "Coax him for me?"

MacLeod glanced over at Adam. He couldn't help smiling at the look on the other man's face. "Ah ha. Well, is it fun?"

"It certainly can be." Adam smirked

"Well, then you shouldn't stay home Christmas Eve." Problem solved, MacLeod quickly thanked his neighbor for the use of the phone.

"Merry Christmas," he exclaimed. Then he was out the front door of the building.

Adam and Amanda watched as he hailed a taxi. Then Amanda turned to her nephew. "I think you like him."

"Yes. I do. Very much." Adam thought about what he had just admitted.

"Did you, um, bring him here," Amanda asked.

"No, he came to use the phone. And that reminds me…"

Giggling interrupted him.

"You broke into his apartment, didn`t you? Fixed his phone. You promised, Amanda…"

"I promised to be careful. Besides, it serves him right. He wasn't nice to me at all. And what harm did I do. I didn't take anything. All right. I read his mail."

"Really! Amanda!"

"It's not like I'm going to use it." She sighed. "It is too bad he's getting married, isn't it?"

"Getting married? How do you know? Oh, one of his letters, I suppose." After a long pause, he went on. "Well, that rules him out." Adam poured another glass of sangria and sat down on his couch. Snuggled into the leather and sighed.

Amanda looked at her nephew. "I don't see why," she said quietly.

"Because I don't take what belongs to someone else." He shrugged. He always had had his scruples. Sting jumped up beside him. Climbed onto his chest. Adam rubbed his ears, and the Sphynx rumble-purred happily.

"But it would be so easy." Amanda had noted the attraction between the two men. "And such good practice for you, darling. And he'd never suspect. Not in a million years. Honestly, it's amazing the way people--they just don't believe there are such things."

Amanda threw herself down into a chair and closed her eyes. "I sit in the subway, sometimes. On buses, or in the movies. And I look at the people next to me. And I think, `what would you say if I told you I was a witch?"

The woman laughed with delight. "And I know they'd never believe it. They just wouldn't believe it! And I giggle, and giggle, to myself."

Adam rolled his eyes at his aunt. "Well, you've got to stop giggling here." He got up, and went over to the woman. "Amanda, I want you to swear that you'll stop practicing in this apartment house."

"But, you practice here," the woman practically screeched.

"I can be discrete about it. You can't."

Amanda drew herself up and stood. "Fine. I'll move to a hotel."

"If that's what you want, okay," Adam said calmly. He knew there was no way his aunt was moving out of a free apartment. "Just remember, if you get in trouble there, I won't be able to get you out." He touched the woman's hair.

"Amanda," he said softly, "I want you to swear you'll never practice any more spells in this house. Not ever again. If you don't…" Adam left the rest of the threat implied. They both knew who was stronger. Still, it was a full minute before Amanda capitulated.

"Alright. Fine. I swear." There were tears in her eyes as she said it.

Sighing, Adam pulled her into a hug. "It's for your own good, Mandy," he said softly.

"I think you're very cruel, Adam," she countered.

"I know." He gave her a kiss on her forehead. "Look, have some sangria while I get changed. I'll go to The Zodiac with you."

 

THREE

The Zodiac was crowded with witches and warlocks celebrating the Yule Season. Amanda circulated the room, taking time to make sure her other nephew, Rich Holroyd, knew they were there. The young man was very much the young warlock on the loose. Unlike Adam, he hadn't gone to college. And more often than not didn't have a job.

Though at the moment, he was playing bongos with the jazz combo appearing at the club.

The woman stopped to greet an old friend, Kronos. The scarred warlock's companion for the evening was a visitor from LA, and they spoke of mutual friends before Amanda moved off to rejoin Adam.

"Oh, darling. You're depressed," the woman exclaimed when she saw the look on his face. She had hoped getting out this evening would help her nephew over whatever funk he was in.

Adam shrugged. "Christmas. You know. Don't you ever wish you could just--have a normal Christmas?"

"Boring," Amanda said emphatically. "You wouldn't like it. Humdrum." She eyed Adam. "Unless you have a certain tall dark and handsome someone in mind?" She smiled.

Adam didn't say anything. But he called a waiter over and got another drink.

 

"It has to be around here, someplace. I looked it up on the Internet." Duncan MacLeod strode around the corner as if he owned the street. His companion followed less enthusiastically.

The tall woman had very long and curly, sandy-brown hair. Her enormous eyes were vibrant blue. Her figure, hidden beneath an extravagant faux-fox coat would be revealed to be curvaceous. She was wearing a slinky silver-shot, sea green, designer evening gown.

"All right, Mac, I grant you this place may be different. But does it have to be invisible?" There was no sense of adventure--whatsoever--in her tone.

"Now listen. I swear I hear music," MacLeod said. He looked over at his companion. "Don't you hear music?" She shook her head emphatically. But the man wasn't ready to give up. "Listen. Listen."

He looked around. Then down. "There. What's that?" He kicked away the snow to reveal a red line painted on the sidewalk. "This is it. See there," he said proudly. Vindicated, when the line led them around the corner into an alley.

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather go back…"

"Come on. This will be fun," MacLeod said cajolingly. He pushed on the club's door. It stayed resolutely shut.

A side window opened and a man stuck his head out. "Good evening. Providing the signs are favorable, The Zodiac welcomes you. Date of your birth, sir?"

"December twenty-first."

"Born on the cusp of Sagittarius and Capricorn. The time is favorable." The man disappeared as the window was shut again.

"Mac, this is the absolute worst…"

The door opened. "The night is favorable. Auspicious for love, pleasure, entertainment. Go right down." The man bowed deeply as the club's guests entered.

"Thanks. Come on," MacLeod said as he took the woman's arm.

As they went down the stairs, the featured entertainment began. A Frenchman took the stage and began to sing. MacLeod automatically translated. And practically choked. The song appeared to be about a man who was assassinated by being drowned. Thrown in a river.

Where he had spent the last ten years. At the bottom of the river. Without food, alcohol, or companionship. He also happened to hate water. MacLeod looked over at his date and smiled wanly. As soon as the number was over and the lights came up, he spotted Amanda.

Amanda waved them over. Then turned to Adam. "That's the one," she said. His fiancee. He has a photo of her on his desk."

Adam leaned forward for a better look. "Amanda, I think… Yes. Yes, I'm sure I do. I know her." Adam moved his chair into a shadow. Sprawled back. Grinned as he watched the couple cross the room. He kept quiet while MacLeod made the introductions.

"Cassandra Kitritch. Amanda Holroyd. Adam Holroyd." He smiled at Amanda. "Sure you don`t mind?" MacLeod asked again.

Amanda assured him they were delighted. And Adam leaned forward.

"I believe Ms. Kitritch and I know each other," he said conversationally. "I don't think you remember. Harvard. We were in several of the same classes."

Cassandra remembered. Her eyes narrowed. They had been rivals, in  
almost everything at university. With her oftentimes coming out in definite second place. "Yes. Yes, of course. You used to come to class barefoot. They put you on probation for it." She paused. "Didn't they?" She smiled prettily at Adam.

"Somebody wrote a note to the Dean about it," Adam confirmed. He smiled right back at her. And casually stuck his booted foot out where the other man could see it. "I wear shoes--in public."

MacLeod looked from Cassandra to Adam. Then over at Amanda. This wasn't going like he'd planned. When had he lost control? And who the hell had it?

Desperate to change the subject, his eyes settled on the band. "It certainly is different."

"Yes, Rich and the rest play very well together." Amanda waved at the redheaded young man. "He's the one playing the bongos. You know, up to a few months ago, he'd never studied music. It's quite remarkable. Because before that, he used to work in a herb shop."

Cassandra giggled. "Looks to me as if he's eaten one herb too many. That's why he acts so creepy, I suppose." She looked over at Mac.

He looked back at her. Appalled.

Adam smiled and shrugged. "It's not that at all. All the Holroyds are a little--sinister. Rich is my brother." He smiled and looked up at the redhead and caught his attention.

"Oh. Terribly sorry." At getting caught in a faux pas. Not sorry in the least that she'd called the man creepy. Cassandra was past ready to leave. She'd never wanted to come here in the first place.

MacLeod wanted to strangle his date. What had gotten into her tonight? He called the waiter over and ordered another round of drinks. Hey, yeah, good idea. They'd all get drunk.

Meanwhile, Adam had quietly made a request for the band to play 'Stormy Weather.' He waited until the piece started, then leaned close to the others. "Cassandra had a quirk at college too. Thunderstorms. You do remember them? Why, that last spring, it was most astonishing. How many dreadful thunderstorms there were. Remember? It was extraordinary. They lasted for weeks."

"Did they really scare you?" MacLeod looked at Cassandra. Genuinely interested.

Cassandra didn't care to talk about it. Nor did she care for the fact that the band had gone into a Jazz version of the song. Right behind her head. When the strobe effects started, she freaked right out and demanded that MacLeod take her home.

The Holroyds partied until the club closed.

continued...


	2. Chapter 2

"Everybody hated her. She was a liar and a sneak. You know what else? She used to write `poison pen' letters. That note from the Dean was from her." Adam was huddled in his heavy black coat as he walked home with Amanda and Rich. He hated the cold, he thought again. So why was he here when he could be in, oh, Tahiti?

"Didn't you do anything about it?"

"Why do you suppose we had all the thunderstorms that spring? She was a nervous wreck by the end of the term." Adam laughed aloud. He felt a little better.

Amanda giggled with delight. She turned around to Rich. "Did you hear…?" She caught him just as he put out all the lights on the street. "How clever, Rich!"

"Hey, yeah, but it's nothing, really. Just a little something I picked up the other day."

Adam just shook his head. Kids.

"You know something else, Amanda? She had a terrible reputation for stealing men."

"Wonderful, darling. Now you don't have a single reason not to take him away from her. It won't be anything for you. Just a few words to Sting."

Adam shook his head. "No. I don't want him that way." He saw the shocked look on his aunt's face. He laughed. "No, no, I haven't fallen in love with him. Besides, we can't lose our powers by falling in love." Privately, he was sure their kind couldn't even fall in love to begin with.

Could he get MacLeod--if he wanted him--without tricks?

"Come in, you can have your presents now. It's been Christmas for hours." Adam got out his key, but Rich insisted on magicking the door open. Amanda was noticeably upset at that. Since she was forbidden from using magic there.

Once inside they settled in the living room and Adam passed out the gifts. New CDs for Rich. And a new player to replace the one the younger man had sold. For Amanda, a bewitchingly beautiful, but totally mundane, scarf.

Rich bemoaned his pauperish state. And the fact that witches always seemed so poor. He concluded it was because those with true powers were afraid to use them.

Amanda agreed. But Adam said nothing. To end that particular train of thought, he took out Rich's gift. A small bottle containing some kind of fluid. "What's it for?"

"Summoning. You're supposed to take this liquid and you paint it on an image or a drawing or a photograph. Of anybody you want. Then set fire to it. And," he made a strange hand gesture. "'Schoom,' they have to come to you. Found it in a new little shop." He looked over at Adam. "I hope it works for you. I couldn't even get it to light."

"Let's try it. Right now," Adam said on a whim. "I have the perfect subject," He told them. He took up a large beaten-copper bowl and went to his computer. A minute later he had printed out a copy of the photo on the cover of `Paranormal In Peru.'

"Joe Dawson, he's in Seacouver." He named a city all the way across the country. "That should be enough of a test," Adam said as he painted on the silvery fluid. He waved it to dry it for a second. Took the lighter Rich handed him. "Ready?"

"Go," Amanda and Rich both said, excitedly.

Flame was touched to paper, and it lit. A moment later a column of green flame shot halfway to the ceiling. The three of them were impressed. And even more impressed when someone came knocking on the door a moment later.

"You're a genius," Rich declared.

"It doesn't work that fast," Adam said with a laugh.

Amanda got up and went to the door. "It's Mr. MacLeod." She stood back as the dark man came rushing in. And Rich doused the contents of the bowl.

"Are you having fireworks," the man asked when he had calmed down a bit. "I didn't mean to disturb you. I thought the place was on fire."

Rich shook his head. "No, man, it's just a--a game we play."

Adam practically groaned. By the look on the man's face, he was sure he'd interpreted Rich's words to mean 'druken game.'

"Seems dangerous, but…" MacLeod shrugged. "Have fun…"

Adam glared at his brother. Then turned to his unexpected visitor. "No, we're done." Very, very done, he thought.

Amanda looked at the other three. Yawned extravagantly. "Rich, darling, I'm very tired. Must be leaving. Good night." She leaned over to kiss Adam's cheek. "I think everything's working out marvelously, she whispered. "Merry Christmas!"

Rich suddenly seemed to get what was going on, and he quickly said his good nights too. That left Adam and MacLeod quite alone.

"Well. Merry Christmas." MacLeod was turning to leave when Adam got up and moved towards him. He stopped to watch the other man. Shook his head. His clothes were casual--I wouldn`t have gone out dressed like that, Duncan thought. But somehow the black wool trousers and burgundy silk sweater looked perfect on Adam. Quickly checking, he smiled to notice the boots were missing.

"Maybe you'd like that rain check now," Adam suggested.

"Alright. Alright," MacLeod said as he moved into the room and took off his coat. He didn't know why, but staying here seemed like a good thing to do.

"How'd you like the Zodiac," Adam asked as he went to pour cognac for them.

"Well. I'm not quite sure. It seemed more like Halloween than Christmas. But, uh…" MacLeod was peering at the ashes in the copper bowl. He seemed to lose his train of thought. He shook his head and moved away.

"Did you know Cassandra well, in school?"

Surprised by the sudden, and unexpected turn of topic, Adam frowned. "No, I didn't know her very well." He brought the snifters over and handed one to MacLeod.

"I'm afraid the music was too much for her," he said. "Thanks." He sipped carefully, and then sighed happily. Adam obviously had good taste in cognac. "Cassandra's really wonderful," MacLeod said abruptly. He took a seat at one end of the sofa.

Adam was glad he hadn't tasted his drink. He set it down on the coffee table. Then reached down and picked Sting up.

"That's your cat? I've seen him around, but I didn't know who he belonged to. He's, ah, pretty--distinctive looking."

"He's a Sphynx. He's supposed to look like this," Adam said with just a hint of a laugh in his voice. "His name is Sting." The cat sat in his master's lap and looked over the other man. There was something about him, though. A smell the cat didn't like. When the man reached out for him, he leapt off Adam's lap and went to sit under a chair.

"That wasn't very polite"

"It's also unusual. I've never seen him do that before." Adam frowned. Then he sprawled back into the opposite corner of the sofa. He studied the other man carefully. There was something compelling about him that Adam didn't understand. It seemed more than mere physical attraction. He wondered if MacLeod was at least bi--instead of completely het.

Just then, MacLeod seemed to pick up on the other man's thoughts. "Cassandra and I are getting married tomorrow. Uh, I mean today," he blurted out. He took a healthy swallow of the cognac. "We decided the whole thing driving home tonight. She's giving a party, and we were going to make the announcement…"

Adam watched the man. The poor fool. Well, if this was what he wanted. He sighed. Was about to get up and show MacLeod out when Sting jumped into his lap. Adam looked down and met the cat's aqua eyes. It was as if a spark flashed between them.

The cat began to purr, and his master began to hum. MacLeod nattered on and on about Cassandra. Until he suddenly realized the time.

He got up and gathered his belongings. He was actually at the door, with his hand on the handle when he turned. He looked at Adam. "What's that you were humming?"

"A lullaby. I sang it to Sting when he was a kitten."

"Uh huh." It was MacLeod's turn to stare. Then he carefully set aside his coat and slowly crossed the room to Adam.

 

FIVE

"Say something. I want to hear your voice again."

"You like my voice?"

"I like everything about you. Don't you know that by now?"

"Yes, you've definitely made that apparent."

MacLeod leaned close to Adam. "What are you thinking? Right now."

"Nothing. Nothing at all. You?"

"Nothing, nothing either. I can't think. Not this close to you." MacLeod looked around. "By the way, where are we?"

Adam laughed. "Top of the Flatiron Building. You wanted to be up on a tall building. But we didn't have any luck at the Empire State. We knocked, but they said no. Not at six in the morning. They were very understanding…"

"But not as understanding as the man downstairs?"

"No." Adam smiled. Nor as bribeable.

"So where were we before?"

"My place."

MacLeod shook his head. "Why'd we ever leave?"

"You wanted to play in the snow," Adam said with a laugh for the other man's expression. "Of course, you don't remember…"

"I remember every single moment," he swore. Then he leaned in to steal a kiss. He couldn't believe how natural it felt. To be kissing Adam. As if this was what he'd been meant to do. He pulled the man closer and wrapped his arms around him. "I feel like I'm living in a dream, Adam," he whispered. Then he drew back a little. "What does all this mean to you? The time we've spent together?"

"It's been… Do we have to talk about it?"

MacLeod looked at the other man. "Considering that I'm supposed to be getting married in a couple of hours? Definitely. And if I'm not, well, I'd better be making some decisions in a hurry."

"Can you, Mac," Adam asked quietly.

"I hope so," he said seriously. "I don't want to stop seeing you. Ever." He shook his head. "I know it doesn't make a bit of sense. But I swear, Adam, I've fallen in love with you." MacLeod ducked his head to look into the other man's eyes. "Have you…"

"I want you as much as you want me, Duncan," Adam said quickly.

"Do you want this to go on? Forever? I don't know if it will. Or if it's one of those things that burn out quick. But so far, it's one hell of a fire." He chuckled softly as he looked at Adam.

For his part, Adam could only nod at first. Finally, he found the voice to speak. "Whatever this is, I want it. Yes."

 

SIX

MacLeod spent the cab ride to Cassandra's apartment wondering how he would explain his decision. His last minute change of heart. He would confess some horrible fault. That was it. He ate garlic at every meal. Catsup on his eggs. Cookies in bed. The crumbs…

Wait. He had it. He rang the doorbell. He had insomnia. Never slept. He was cranky and…

"And I snore. Horribly," he said aloud as the door swung open. "It won't work, Cassandra. You won't ever be happy with me."

"What?" She grabbed MacLeod's arm before he bolted and pulled him into her apartment. "What's the matter? You look green. I hope you don't have too much of a hangover." She looked him over. "No. You're just nervous." She patted his cheek, and went to get her coat.

"Anita called. She found a JP. And a photographer. We have to be there for one."

"It's no good, Cassandra. No good. No use."

"Are you still drunk?" The woman was incredulous, couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"No. I'm not drunk. Not drunk. Intoxicated, maybe. But not drunk." MacLeod smiled at that thought. Yes, Adam was definitely intoxicating.

"You're not acting like yourself, Duncan. I swear, you're like someone else entirely."

"Yes! Like another person. That's how I feel." He grinned widely. "And this person just doesn't want to marry you. Cassandra. I'm sorry." He reached out and took her hand. "You wouldn't want me to do something I don't want to do, would you? I think it's for the best if we just--uncouple." He smiled.

"You sound like a lunatic, Mac!"

He ducked his head. "I'm sure that's true," he agreed. "Cassandra, I can't explain… I don't even understand it myself."

"And what am I supposed to do?"

"Well, you could go back to the guy you dumped for me. Take a vacation." He looked around. "You could redecorate this apartment. It really needs it."

That was the clincher. Cassandra stalked towards the man. "You are vile. Sleezy. Contemptible…" She raised her hand threateningly.

MacLeod smiled. "Goodbye Cassandra. Have a nice life," he said cheerfully.

 

SEVEN

Bright and early the next morning, Duncan MacLeod arrived at his office. He breezed past his assistant and a man sitting there. Anne Lindsey, one of the partners, was waiting for him inside. They exchanged niceties concerning the holiday while the man checked his computer.

They would be going over gallies, and meeting with Charlie Desalvo, the senior partner, later.

MacLeod picked up his phone, and canceled all the reservations he had made. Lunches, dinners, theater.

Anne perked up. "You've finally dumped that…" She broke off as the door opened and the man who had been waiting peeped in.

"Uh, Mr. MacLeod, I'm Joe Dawson. You don't know me. But, uh, I think I want to see you?"

"You're who?"

"Dawson. `Paranormal In Peru?'"

"'Paranormal In Pe…" MacLeod looked at the gray-haired older man. Then at Anne. "Oh, of course." He rose and went to shake the man's hand. "Dawson. Glad, no, astonished to see you. Have a seat. I was just talking to somebody about you, um, night before last. Thought you were in Seacouver?"

The man looked around. Confused. "Yes, well, right. But there's a new book I'm about to start. And I get this urge. An uncontrollable urge. To talk to you about it."

MacLeod and Ann exchanged amused glances as the man rambled on.

"First, I thought I'd email. Then, call. All of a sudden I had to see you. So I got on a plane. Here I am." He stopped and looked around. Apparently as bewildered as the other two.

Anne grinned at the two men and decided to take charge. She sent out for coffee and pastries while MacLeod got Dawson settled.

The man was about to explain his idea for the new book when Charlie Desalvo came in. Introductions were quickly made, and Charlie took a seat too.

"I've got a title already, `Paranormal In Manhattan.'" He could see the trio was skeptical. "This kind of thing isn't just in the jungles. The tropics. New York is full of them."

"Full of them," Anne repeated. "How do you know that?"

"Because," Dawson leaned forward conspiratorially. "I've met a couple. Met 'em through my research. Before I even went to Peru." He sat back. "Take my word for it. Right here. All around us there's a whole community of them. You know, they look like any of us."

He went on, filling them in on some of the magic-lore he'd collected.

"So, you can actually contact these people?"

"Sure." Dawson looked over at the woman and smiled. "They have places open to the public. Cafés, bars, nightclubs. The Zodiac, over in the Village. And one in Brooklyn…" Dawson stopped and looked over at Desalvo. "You don't take this seriously, do you?"

"Oh, yes. Of course I do. But this is Duncan's department. And I have another meeting." He smiled and shook Dawson's hand. "Anne, shall we?"

The woman really wanted to stay, but she smiled at Desalvo and went out with him.

MacLeod waited until they were gone. "You said The Zodiac? Little place in a cellar."

"Headquarters is downstairs from there."

MacLeod sat back, grinning. He couldn't wait to tell Adam what he had found out. Then he had an even better idea. "What are you doing this evening. I'd like for you to have drinks with some friends of mine."

"Love to," Dawson assured him.

 

EIGHT

Amanda and Rich sat utterly still. In shock. As Dawson told them all about witches. Adam sprawled, and smirked. The man had been fed a line of bull…

"Tell them about The Zodiac," MacLeod urged. "That's where Rich works."

"Oh, yeah, The Zodiac. It's the headquarters. Place is infested. Just take a good look at the owner, sometime."

"You mean, he's a witch," Rich asked.

"Warlock. Male witch."

"Oh." Rich almost snickered. "Well, hey, I've never even noticed."

"I would," Dawson said emphatically. "It's a feeling I get. Right here." He thumped his chest. "If one came in here right now…"

"I wonder if we know any," Rich murmured.

Adam shook his head. "I don't know. I suppose there could be a lot of it around?" He glanced at MacLeod.

"Like the flu?" The man smiled back at Adam.

"Go ahead, make fun." Dawson drained his glass of bourbon, "But my old publisher…"

"No, no, I want to publish the new one. Definitely. With all the other things I've seen on the bestsellers lists, I wouldn't think of not publishing it.'

Dawson and MacLeod were happy. Especially MacLeod. "This has been some coincidence. Just the other night, Adam asked if I'd like to meet you."

Amanda's eyes widened and she looked over at Rich. She didn't like all this talk of witches and witchcraft. Not at home. Not like this.

"A toast." Dawson raised his glass. "'Ring the bell. Close the book. Quench the candle.'" He smiled. "Exorcism ritual. From the Middle Ages."

"Ah." MacLeod nodded, but for some odd reason, he put his glass down untouched.

"Dawson, isn't writing about all this, well, dangerous? Aren't you afraid of reprisals?" Adam wasn't looking at the man. He was petting Sting. The cat purred, and watched the stranger.

"As a matter of fact, I am. But there's a man--very high up in the movement. Now, if I can find him, I hope to get him on my side. Kro… Ah, na, na, nah. Can't tell you…"

"Oh, you mean Kronos."

Sting jumped down and practically flew up onto a bookshelf. Both Adam and Rich turned to stare at Amanda.

"How do you know that," Dawson asked suspiciously.

Amanda went into distressed damsel mode. She batted her eyelashes and waved her hands about. "Oh! I'm sure I heard the name at that club--The Zodiac?" Amanda giggled. "I heard he smokes cigars made of seaweed."

Mollified, Dawson smiled. "Sounds like him, alright. I'm going to start looking tonight."

MacLeod was about to suggest they all get going--they had dinner plans--when Sting suddenly decided to check him out. The Sphynx lightly jumped onto the man's shoulder and touched his nose to MacLeod's ear. Whatever that nasty smell that had been on him before, was gone. The cat purred.

Adam got up and retrieved Sting.

"Cats make excellent familiars," Dawson said conversationally. "Almost all witches have them. Pets to carry out their master's bidding."

"Mac, we're still going out to dinner?" Adam had had enough of Dawson.

"Oh, I have something on the stove," Amanda blurted out and excused herself to the others.

Rich shrugged. "Me too, I guess." He went to get his coat, and Adam followed.

"I don't like him looking for Kronos. Put him off the track."

"Hey, sure." Rich went back into the living room. "Dawson. Joe. All of that was really interesting. Would you mind if I went along with you?" He'd noted the amount of alcohol the man had consumed. He had a brilliant idea. "I know this little place. The Mumbo Jumbo."

Adam came out of his bedroom after the others were gone. MacLeod shook his head. "What a guy, that Dawson. I thought you might like to meet him." The man held out Adam's shoes. "Can't forget these," he said with a smile. "What's really amazing, I think he really believes all that paranormal stuff."

"As long as he doesn't think there's anything strange about me." Adam smirked when MacLeod would have pulled him into a kiss. "Dinner. You promised to feed me."

"I can order in. We don't have to go."

"We'll be back," Adam promised.

"You bet I will," MacLeod stated emphatically.

continued...


	3. Chapter 3

Rich and Joe walked along the street and Dawson ticked off the things he would need. "Laundry, hotel room, money, barber shop… Good barber. Not too much. "He ran a hand through his hair, grinned at the other man. "Oh, and a computer."

"I can loan you mine," Rich said. It wasn't really his. But he didn't think Adam would mind lending his laptop in a worthy cause. Besides, it was *his* idea to keep tabs on Dawson.

"Really? That's nice, friendly. Thank you."

They walked on a few more yards before Rich spoke again. "Listen, you know something, there's one thing that you might need. And that would be a collaborator. No, I mean it. You know, someone who could really scout around for you. No, get some facts for you. Let you, uh, in on some things."

Dawson stopped and turned to Rich. He looked skeptical. "Let me in? Listen, I am as in as anybody but one of them himself could be."

"And if I got you one of--them to collaborate with?"

"That--that would be different," the older man admitted.

"Would you split fifty-fifty?"

"Sure. It would be worth it." But Dawson shook his head. "You're naive, kid. They're very tight with their trade secrets. They would--I could never get near a deal like that."

Rich leaned close to Dawson. "You are closer than you think," he whispered. Then he stepped back and looked up and down the street. He grinned when he saw a couple necking in a parked car.

He pointed them out. "Watch." Then he sighed and gave Dawson a poke. "Watch me." He closed his eyes and concentrated. A moment later the horn on the car began to blast. Nothing the man inside could do would stop it. Rich looked pleased with himself.

But Dawson just shrugged. Until Rich repeated his previous procedure and and the horn cut off.

The bearded older man stared for several minutes. Finally he took the two steps to Rich. "You?"

Rich just laughed.

 

TEN

The next few days passed like a dream. Adam and Duncan spent the days working apart. And their nights together. On New Year's Eve they went to a private party at an exclusive gay club. Adam had been surprised at how well the other man took to his new lifestyle.

By the time two weeks had passed, they were practically living together in Adam's apartment. On this particular night they were just settling in to have popcorn and watch a new DVD when the phone rang. Adam let the machine pick up. But it was Rich, and he was insistent on talking with his brother. Going so far as to threaten to come over.

"Okay, okay. Rich. What's so…?" Adam looked over at MacLeod and shrugged. Then he turned away when he heard the question. "Say it slow and I'll correct you. Hm. That's it."

Just then the microwave beeped and MacLeod went to get it.

Adam smiled when he went past. As soon as the man was out of the room, Adam hissed at Rich. "Listen, I can't help now. I have company. No, nothing's going on. And besides, what do you want to know all this for?"

"What? What do you mean you're working with Dawson? Crap. I have to go. I'll come by tomorrow." Adam hung up and took a deep breath. He walked into the kitchen where MacLeod was putting the popcorn into a big bowl and pouring Cokes for them. "Thanks, Mac," he said as he came up behind him and hugged him

MacLeod stopped and turned to look at Adam. He had a serious expression on his face.

"Adam, when are we going to get married?"

"Uh? Did I miss a couple of chapters?" Married? Had Duncan really mentioned marriage?

"Come on. After the last two weeks, you can't think this is, well,sudden."

Adam took a handful of popcorn and ate it kernel by kernel. "I guess I just haven't thought about it." He refused to meet MacLeod's eyes.

"That's…!" MacLeod stopped, took a breath. "Adam, I can't work. I have a pile of manuscripts in my office this high." He held his hand up to his chin. "I can`t stay in my office because I can only think of you… I'm going crazy. I can't go on…" He hauled the lighter man in for a kiss. "Wait a minute. Why are you ducking this? Be serious."

Adam pulled away. "Mac, I don't think I'm cut out for--marriage?" He sighed. "I'm selfish, reckless, pursuing one thing after another…"

"You make it sound so, so sordid."

"I don't mean sleeping around, Mac," Adam touched his arm to soothe him. "But my life has been, sort of, disreputable. At least the way you would see it. And your friends."

"I'm fickle, I'm jealous and vindictive. You just haven't seen it. Mac, I've always lived for--and by--the special. Not the ordinary. I've never even thought of marriage." He looked up at MacLeod. "It would mean giving up a whole way of thinking. Behaving. A whole existence. And I honestly don't know if I could."

Adam picked up the bowl and his glass and went into the living room. "I wish I could", he said quietly.

`And why not,' a tiny voice asked. "Yes," Adam whispered. "Why not? I can do anything I want." He turned. "Mac, I, I will.

"Can I hear that again," MacLeod asked softly.

"I will. I want to. I'll be different from now on. I promise."

"I don't want you any different!"

"I want to be. Need to be…"

"No, I won't have it."

The two men came together in the middle of the apartment. Sting watched from his perch on the bookshelf.

 

ELEVEN

The next morning, early, Adam got Amanda to watch the shop and went to The Zodiac. Rich had told him that's where he and Dawson were working on the new book. Sure enough, he spotted the graybeard at a table. Using a brand new laptop. On inquiry, one of the waiters sent him to the office. Rich was busy at his borrowed computer. Adam closed the door and locked it. There was no need to spread family business.

"Hey, bro, long time no see! Working hard there with Mac?" He snickered. "Well, *we're* making progress. Mac promised Joe he'd read the first half of the manuscript tonight! Great, huh?"

"Rich, when did you get mixed up in this," Adam asked quietly. He took a seat across the desk from his brother.

"I've been in on this from the beginning. You know, the night we met at the shop." He picked up several pages and showed them to his brother. "Adam, you'd die laughing if you read some of this. It's wrong. All wrong." He shook his head. "Took me long enough to straighten him out."

"Straighten him out? You haven't told him about yourself, have you?" Adam practically cringed. What had Rich gotten himself into?

"Of course. I've told him just about everything. I want this thing to sell, don't I?" The redhead was confused. He thought his brother would be happy to see him working hard at this.

Adam got up and went behind Rich to look at the computer screen. "You haven't told him about me, have you?" He was suddenly suspicious.

"No, of course not. I told him it was me that summoned him." Rich sat back. "Do you want the credit?"

Adam groaned. "No. I. Do. Not." He shook his head. "Rich. You--you're an idiot. Don't you understand it doesn't pay to tell outsiders?"

"Well, in this case it's paying. Very well. Mac's already given Joe a very generous advance."

"Rich. You can't publish this book."

"What is the matter with you? Why not?"

"Because Mac and I are getting married." Adam began to pace around the office.

"Uh. Well. Goodness sakes. Bless your little heart. Congratulations. Marriage, no less." Rich chuckled. "What fun. Mac's really going to have quite a time…"

"No jokes, and no tricks."

"You don't mean--this is for real? Why? You've already got him. What do you want to marry him for?"

"Because he wants it. And I want him to be happy."

Rich couldn't believe what he was hearing. "I suppose the next thing you're going to tell me is that you're giving it all up. Renouncing…"

"I already have." Adam looked over some of the manuscript pages that littered the desk. "And this is too close to home."

"Well, I'm sorry. This is very important to me!"

"Well, it is much more important to me. And I want you to stop it!"

"Not a chance," Rich said vehemently. "I'm not going to spend my life being--poor!

"Fine. I'll just have to do something about it."

"Oh, you mean you'll…" He made a tossing gesture. "I thought you said you were renouncing?"

"I'll just have to make a farewell appearance for this, won't I?" Adam hissed.

"You will?" Rich's demeanor suddenly changed. "But--I wouldn't. I wouldn't, Adam. If you do, I promise you--your little romance is going to go on the rocks!"

But Adam was already out the door. Obviously ignoring Rich.

The redhead slammed the door behind his brother.

 

TWELVE

MacLeod was in his comfortable chair before the fireplace. In his favorite robe. Coffee beside him on the table. Dawson's manuscript in his hands. He started reading.

By the end of the first chapter he was yawning. By the end of the second, his eyes wouldn't stay focused. He flipped through the rest of the pages, then tossed the whole thing aside.

He got up and got ready for bed. Unconsciously humming. Not even realizing it was the little lullaby he'd heard Adam use with Sting.

 

The next morning he met with Joe Dawson and Rich. He was brutal. "Absolute trash. Garbage. Frankly, this is the most idiotic thing I've ever read in my life. You should call it, 'What Every Young Witch Ought To Know.' And include a 'do-it-yourself' kit with every sale."

Joe looked like he was about to cry. "But, I thought you liked the idea?"

"Yes, I did. But I've certainly changed my mind."

"Why?"

"Why? Because… Be…" MacLeod shrugged. "You know, I can go on with a spoof…"

"Spoof!"

"Silly, isn't it," Rich said suddenly. Up to now he'd been completely quiet.

"It certainly is. And I don't plan for this company to become the laughingstock of the trade by publishing it."

"But, ever word is gospel. I swear, it's gospel." Dawson slumped in his chair.

"What's the use, Joe? He's not buying it."

The older man got up. He sighed dramatically. "This is my hour of grief."

MacLeod got up too. He liked the man. He really did. But his book was still a disaster. And there was nothing he could do about it. Nothing. "Joe, maybe we can find something to tide you over? You know you can keep the advance," MacLeod was saying when the door opened."

Rich looked up. "Well, think of the devil," he said cheerily.

Adam ignored him. "Mac, I'm sorry. But, I have to see you. Now."

MacLeod absolutely beamed. "What a nice surprise."

Rich watched the two of them for a moment. They did look happy together. He eyed his brother. "What do you suppose, Adam? Mac turned the book down."

"'Fraid I had to," MacLeod said.

"Bet you did," Rich agreed. Then he got up to shake MacLeod's hand. "So long, Mac. You and Adam will be hearing from me," he said for his brother's benefit. He was almost to the door with Dawson when MacLeod called them back.

"Here, don't forget your manuscript?"

Rich shrugged. "Just drop it in the trash. It was silly of me to try this writing bit, anyway, wasn't it, Adam?"

"You can always shop around for another publisher."

"No." Rich looked at Adam. "I don't guess any other publisher would do us much good. Would it?"

Adam shook his head. "I doubt it."

"Yeah, that's what I figured." Shrugging, he got ready to leave.

"Rich, Rich, don't bother… I'm going to tell Mac."

"Oh. Sure. Well, whatever. Either way it's your funeral, isn't it?" He sauntered out of the door. A definite smirk on his face.

"What was that all about," MacLeod asked quietly. He got that there was some kind of family disagreement going on. And that it seemed pretty serious. And somehow, the publication of this book was part of it.

Adam got up and went to close the office door. Then turned and faced the other man. "I decided this morning that, well, there's something I had to tell you. Even if I thought you'd never find out."

"Okay. What? You know you can tell me anything. Don't you?"

He took a breath. Let it out. Took another. "Mac, there are people who… Well, there's no other way to say it," he sighed. "They live by magic." Adam could see that MacLeod didn't believe him. "Mac, I'm one. A witch. Warlock. Sorcerer. Whatever you want to call me. One of the people the book's about. And so is Rich."

MacLeod began to laugh. "And he persuaded you to help sell that crazy mess. I'm sorry, but it won't work. I'd be happy to publish it--just for you. But it's terrible!"

"No, no, that's not it, Mac. You don't understand. I'm trying to explain…"

MacLeod moved close to take Adam by the shoulders. "What's wrong? Has, has Rich threatened you? About telling me something about you?" He looked into the other man's eyes. "That's easy to fix. You can tell me yourself. Is it something about your past? What have you been up to?"

"Mac." Adam shook his head. "There are ways of altering, manipulating things for yourself. It's true. I know. I can do it."

"You can? Hey, go ahead. Show me!"

MacLeod was clearly placating him, and Adam didn't like it one bit. "No. No, it's addicting. And, I, well, gave in to it last night. But never again, Mac."

"Last night? What did you do last night?"

"I stopped the book from being published."

The man laughed out loud at that. "Oh, no you didn't. No, no, that's my problem."

"I didn't say I stopped you from publishing it. I stopped anyone from publishing it."

"Really? And how did you do that?

"I know it sounds crazy… I put on a spell. I used Sting."

"I can just see it. The cat going around to meetings."

"Fine. Don't believe it. And don't believe I brought Dawson to you…"

"Wait a minute. Wait a minute. Let's get our stories straight. Rich said he brought him."

"No. It was me. I didn't want you to know I was involved. And that's not the only thing. Your telephone. Who do you think put it out of order?"

"That was just--it happened!"

"No!"

"Okay, then, who?"

Adam shrugged, and turned away. He didn't want to implicate Amanda. Not if he could get out of it. "Never mind."

MacLeod sighed. "Adam, why would anyone want to put my phone out of order?"

"As a prank. A trick. Like turning all the traffic lights on 57th Street green. That's what Rich uses it for. Or his lovelife."

"His lovelife? Now, that could be useful." MacLeod shook his head. "I don't know what all of this is about. But really, it's all been a series of coincidences. And that's all. Let`s be rational about this, Adam."

Of course. Adam had seen it before. People rationalizing. No matter how hard they had to work at it. "Yes. And you'll be rational about us, too. That`s okay?"

"Of course…" Then he realized what Adam had said. Admitted. "What was that?"

"You heard me."

"You mean? No. No, this can't be…"

"Mac. Christmas morning. Was that rational?" He sighed. "What do you remember? Exactly? After Rich and Amanda left?"

"We had drinks. I started talking about Cassandra. Then I realized how late it was and I got my things…" He stopped and stared at Adam again. "Then I looked at you. Really looked at you."

"What was I doing?"

"You? You weren't doing anything. Except humming to the cat."

"And what made you kiss me the first time?"

"The same thing that makes me want to do it now." And he did. "Look, Adam, I believe you. I don't know why you want me to. But I do. You've cast a wonderful spell on me and I love it. I'm crazy about it!"

Adam sighed. "All right. If you don't believe it, you don't. I tried. I tried my very best." He touched MacLeod's cheek, then turned and went out of the door.

continued...


	4. Chapter 4

MacLeod fled. He couldn't go to his apartment. Not with Adam just downstairs from him. Nor did his office feel like a very safe place. If only he knew someone who could help him.

Then it hit him. He did. He got a taxi and went to The Zodiac

Rich was reluctant to even listen to him at first. But then he took pity on the man. It wasn't his fault after all. Adam had used him. And if he, Rich, could have a small part in knocking Adam off his high horse.

He made a few phone calls. And before two hours had gone by, they were on the way to Connecticut. Rich, MacLeod and Dawson.

The taxi pulled into the driveway of a ramshackle Victorian. The three men went to the door and rang the bell. A medium-sized man with a scarred face greeted them. Rich beamed at the man. "Hello, Kronos," he said deferentially."

"Good evening, Richard. Good evening, gentlemen."

Dawson was awestruck. "Kronos…"

The man nodded. Smiled. "So, is this the one you called about?"

Dawson shook his head, and Rich grinned. "No, this is Joe Dawson."

"Mr. Dawson. I'm an admirer. What an honor."

It was plain to see that Dawson was enthralled by the very nearness of the man.

But Rich was ready to get on with the mission. "This is Duncan MacLeod, Kronos. He's the one with the--problem."

"Ah, yes. Richard has explained. It really is too bad. I don't know what I can do. But I can try. Please, come in." Kronos stood back and let him in. But barred the way to the others. "These things can take--a long time. You go home. I'll let you know when it's over."

Rich and Joe nodded. They'd both wanted to stay. "Okay. Good luck," they said quietly. The door shut on them.

 

FIFTEEN

Rich watched as the movers came down the stairs with MacLeod's possessions. He grinned as he turned to his brother.

"You didn't have to cheapen it by taking him to him. He`s too good for that sort of thing."

"Oh, come on, just because you and Kronos are rivals?"

"We are not rivals. He's a third-rate, vulgar, self-advertising, mail-order sorcerer."

"Just the same, you should never have told Mac. And you know it. You know what it says on love potions. 'Shake well, but don't tell'."

"It's what happens to people like us. We forfeit everything. And end up in a little world of separateness from everyone."

A moment later the shop door opened, and MacLeod came in. He was carrying a long, slender box. He looked at Adam, then at Rich. "I want to see him alone."

"Hey, great! How're you doing?" Rich looked into the other man's face and smiled. "Oh, yeah, you're fine." He patted MacLeod's arm and went out the door.

Adam leaned against a counter and looked at the man. "I heard about last night. What did you go there for?"

"For the hair of the dog that bit me." MacLeod shook his head. "Listen, I don't want to be here. And I wouldn't be, except the old… Well, he told me the treatment wouldn't be complete until I confronted you."

"How nice to make that a condition," Adam said with a snort.

"And he told me to tell you that in case you have anything further in mind, he's fixed it so you can't undo this one."

"And just how did he manage that?"

"I don't know. He said it was something he put in that disgusting mess he made me drink." MacLeod made a series of faces. "I've never been so humiliated in all my life. Not to mention the money!"

"How much did he charge?"

"Ten thousand dollars!"

"What?"

"At least he took American Express. And he pointed out that if we'd gotten married, a divorce would have cost a lot more!"

"Great comparison." The slim man was angry.

"A good one, though. A good one." MacLeod looked around the shop. Almost as if he were memorizing it. "And now, I must be going. Believe me, I've had my fill of this 'bell, book and candle' set."

"Mac, you don't have to move…"

"Oh, yes I do! Though, I can see I might have trouble subletting. It's not like I can recommend the place wholeheartedly." He nodded. "Good day."

"You mean goodbye?"

"That's right."

"We'll never see each other again?"

"I can't see why we would."

"You'll go back to Cassandra?"

"If she'll have me." So what if he had absolutely no intention of seeing Cassandra again. So what if it hurt Adam. Too bad. MacLeod turned. Determined to get out the door this time. Then he remembered the box. "Here. I'm going to a hotel. I won't need this." He pulled out a straw broom. Handed it to Adam. "You might. If you decide to get out of the retail business. Have broom, will travel."

Adam snatched it out of the man's hands. "So, a trip to the Connecticut goblin, a visit to me, a final moronic joke, and away you go… It's that easy, is it?" Adam tossed the broom over his shoulder and knocked over a delicate porcelain bowl.

"Go back to Cassandra, will you? Not if I have anything to say about it! Maybe you're defrosted, but I haven't even begun with her. Now, let's see what would be fancy enough? How about if I transport her? Before I'm done with her, she'll see more geography than Marco Polo." Adam watched MacLeod. Yes, this was good. Let him fear the Holroyd wrath!

"And don't bother chasing after her. Before she goes I'll--I'll infatuate her. Make her fall for someone. With the first stranger that walks in on her. The mailman, the plumber, the window washer."

Adam looked around. "Sting! Come here, Sting!" He ignored the other man and went looking for the cat.

MacLeod stared after him for several seconds. Then rushed out.

 

FIFTEEN

MacLeod was pacing around Cassandra's small studio. "I know. I know how it sounds. I'm under a spell. I'm enchanted. Sure, It's inconceivable. But it's a fact. I tell you there are such things. And they're right here in New York." The man slammed his hand down on a table for emphasis.

The woman paused, loaded paintbrush in hand. "There are?" she questioned, with a feigned gasp.

"Yes. Adam Holroyd. He's one!"

"Please, Mac. You just never learned to spell." She snickered to herself. "Oops, wrong sex, too." She went back to her painting.

"What about the thunderstorms when you were in college? I suppose you think they were--ordinary thunderstorms. Well, they weren't!" Then MacLeod seemed to remember Adam's promise to send the woman off to see the world.

"Cassandra, have you, ah, gotten an urge to travel? Say, in the last half hour or so?"

"Only away from you, Mac," she replied with exasperation.

"Look, Cassandra, I'm only trying to help you." He shrugged. "If you don't believe me, well, fine. Don't. Just don't say I didn't warn you."

"Duncan, if you want to come back to me, just say it…"

"Come back? No. No. I just…"

Cassandra's assistant came into the studio. "The exterminator's here."

"Good. Let him in."

"No! That's not a good idea. Trust me, Cassandra. You don't want this guy to seduce you."

Cassandra couldn't believe what the man had said. She rolled her eyes and shook her head as the burly man appeared. MacLeod was deeply disturbed. She hoped he would seek professional help.

"Good morning," she looked at the name embroidered on his jacket, "Silas. You can start in the bedroom." She pointed down a hallway.

Groaning, MacLeod turned away. "Bon voyage," he said. Then he quietly went away.

 

Adam sat with Sting in his lap. Amanda watched him from the doorway between shop and apartment.

"What are you going to do," she asked softly. She knew what she would do. Something personal. Very personal. Like, hm, have all of that woman's hair fall out. That would be just lovely.

A shrug was all the answer she got.

"Adam, you are going to do something, aren't you?"

After a few moments the man shook his head. "No. I'm not. It won't make any difference. I screwed up, Amanda. I cheated to get him. And fell in love with him. I should have known better."

He tipped the cat off his lap and got up. "It's over. Done. Maybe, maybe…" He wrapped his arms around himself.

"Maybe you'll meet again when he becomes immortal?" There. They'd been avoiding the subject all this time.

"Maybe." But Adam wasn't going to say anything more. He wanted to hope. But he didn't dare.

Amanda studied him for a long while. "What's it like, love? Is it wonderful?"

"Wonderful? No. Oh, no. It's awful, Amanda. Awful."

"Adam, oh, darling!" Amanda pulled him into her arms and hugged him as tightly as she could.

 

SIXTEEN

The Zodiac Club was fairly quiet this evening. But it was still early. Joe Dawson sat at a table with Kronos. They had become almost inseparable since the night the warlock had broken Adam's spell.

"Hey," Rich called as he crossed from the bar with his drink. Both men waved, then went back to talking with their heads close together.

The redheaded warlock went over to Amanda's table. "Hey, Amanda, I think our friend, Dawson's, gone on Kronos. Haven't you heard? He's writing his life story." He sat down, and noted his aunt's glum expression. "What's up?"

"It's Adam. I'm worried about him, Rich. He's been so, so unhappy lately." Amanda gave a breathless sigh.

"He asked for it."

"Rich. He's all alone except for Sting." Even if the cat was cool, the man still needed more. "I think something could be done to get him together with Mac. Nature might take its course!" Amanda looked up at Rich.

"My hands are tied. I can't even contact Mac at all." The woman smiled, and leaned closer to her nephew. "But you…"

"Me? No. Not no, but, hell no. I told you, Amanda, I don't believe in it. I've told you a million times. It never pays to get mixed up with other immortals. Or preimmortals. The best thing for Adam is to forget about MacLeod."

"You don't understand, Rich. He loves him."

"Wouldn't he rather be dead?" Rich shivered. Drained his beer. Went off to get another.

Amanda sat back in her chair. "I have to do something," she whispered. "I just have to."

 

Duncan and Anne were working in his office. The woman was up on a ladder putting books away. One tumbled out of her arms and hit the floor with a thump. She looked over at MacLeod. "Sorry."

"Anne. I'm trying to work." His tone was definitely grumpy. As it had been for some time now. A moment later a draft through the open door sent several notes flying off his desk. "Look! You left the door open." He jumped up to retrieve the papers.

"I told you to close it."

"Fine. I will." She started to climb down from the ladder.

"Just leave it alone. I need the air!"

Anne looked at her friend. He brushed past her. "You can do all that later?" he asked as she picked up another armful of books.

"You asked me to do it today."

"I know. But I want to be left alone so I can work!"

"You. Are. Not. Working." Anne had had enough. "You're howling. You've been like this for weeks, Duncan. You're hurt and… I don't have to put up with this." She turned and stalked out. Carefully closing the door behind her.

Meanwhile, Sting had used the opportunity of the open door to sneak inside. When MacLeod sat back down in his chair, the Sphynx jumped to his shoulder.

The man slowly turned his head to look the cat in the eye. "Well…"

 

SEVENTEEN

The Spiral Dance was virtually the same as the last time MacLeod had been inside. Inventory had changed, but that was all. The door chimes announced his entrance. He stood there with the cat in his arms and waited.

Adam had risen even before MacLeod entered. He came out from behind his desk. He was the same. But the other man had changed. Adam folded his arms around his chest. "Can I help you," he asked quietly. He was determined not to say anything.

MacLeod could only look at the man for several moments. Then he remembered why he was there. He moved further into the shop. "You can take your cat back." He frowned, and groaned. "I must be allergic to him. I have a monster headache all of a sudden." He set Sting down on the counter. Rubbed the back of his neck.

"What were you doing with him?" Adam crossed over to the man.

"He showed up at my office." MacLeod snorted with disgust. "I don't know what you think you're doing, but you need to stop."

"I have stopped, Mac. Trust me." Then he thought about something Amanda had said earlier. A comment about, 'what if Mac showed up.' "I think I know who did this. I'll talk to them. Okay?"

"Look, I'm not mad…" He looked around the shop. Noticed the display of crystals. He picked one up. Set it back down.

"Thanks for bringing Sting back. I appreciate it. You, you don't have to stay, Mac."

"It's okay. I'm here." And his headache was going away. "So, things going all right for you?" Now that he was here, seeing Adam again, he didn't want to leave.

"Good. It's good. How are you and Cassandra?" He had to know. Adam had to know if they were together.

"She's fine." The dark man smiled. "I guess. I haven't seen her in a long time." He moved back to Adam. "Thanks for not hexing her."

Adam shrugged. He wanted to turn away. Wanted MacLeod to go. Leave him alone. But he wasn't doing that. No. He was standing right there. In Adam's personal space. He could smell him.

"You know, this is weird. We can stand here, calmly, and discuss things." MacLeod smiled at the other man.

"Considering we're really just two strangers, you mean?" Adam could hear the cynicism in his own voice. He didn't care.

"No. After--everything, I don't think you can say we're strangers," he said low. His tone was almost sultry.

Adam blushed. "Mac, please. Don't make more of it than it was."

The man chuckled. "What was it, Adam? Maybe it started as revenge against Cassandra. But somewhere, somehow, along the way it changed." He stopped. Astonished by his thoughts. "It wasn't a spell, Adam."

"Really? Then, what was it, Mac?"

"Fate? Karma? Love. I think it was love from the moment I saw you." The man reached out to touch Adam's face. "I never wanted to stop doing this. Even when we had that last fight. I wanted you then."

"I wanted you, Mac."

"Good." MacLeod leaned in for a kiss. Reached out to pull Adam into an embrace. "Can we…"

The slighter man pulled back and away. "There's something else you have to know. No more hiding," he said solemnly. He led the other man into the apartment and had him sit on the couch. He sat beside him.

"You're not going to tell me you're married, are you," MacLeod joked.

Adam shook his head. "More important than that," he said quietly. "You know there are people who live by magic. But there are people who, well, are magic. Magical." He stopped, unsure of how to go on.

"What? Like elves?" MacLeod pretended amazement.

"No. Immortals. People who can't die. I'm one. So is Amanda. And Rich." Adam stopped and looked into the other man's eyes.

"What kind of accident did you have, Mac?"

"Accident? How did you…?" Eyes narrowed for a moment. "Come on, Adam, what kind of game is this?"

"No game. Tell me. Please?"

MacLeod didn't say anything for a while. Just stared down at his hands. "The week after I moved. There was ice on the sidewalk in front of the hotel. I slipped. I knocked myself out?"

"No. You died. Has anything unusual been happening since?"

"I, ah, cut myself…"

"And it heals in just a second. It's called the quickening."

"This means I'll live forever?"

"Unless you lose your head." Adam smiled. "But we're not going to let that happen, are we?"

MacLeod wrapped his arms around Adam. "No. No, I don't think so." He smiled. Then he laughed. "Forever. I like the sound of that. Especially with you."

They kissed, then. And Adam knew it was going to be okay.

"Forever and ever," he agreed.

 

End

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


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